


Civilized Savagesd

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-02-28
Updated: 2006-02-27
Packaged: 2018-08-15 17:55:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 21,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8067118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: When one of their own goes missing, the Enterprise crew goes on a search as to why. (08/31/2004)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: To my darling Julie who loves Star Trek and is always willing to listen to me either rag or rave about episodes. Always know that you're opinion is more important than the stupid producers.  
  
I know that Enterprise hasn't been on television for long and the characterizing of the characters on the show may not be accurate but it's the way I see them. Bear me with here as I attempt to give some life to this.  


* * *

### Trettri IVâ€”Trading Post

"Tell me why we're here again?" Lt. Travis Mayweather asked as he avoided a rather nasty looking fellow with claws that didn't look all too clean from his last meal. "Cause I'm still at a lost as to why we are here."

Captain Jonathan Archer grinned his usual good-natured self and patted the young man on the back. "Cause we are looking to improve our cultural..." he ducked at a tankard of something bright and green sailed over his head and crashed loudly against the far wall. "Experience."

"I think we could learn about this in a pub down in Georgia." Charles "Trip" Tucker III laughed as he watched a couple of rather shapely blue haired women dressed in what could be copper wires dance on a stage. "Though the entertainment was never this...strange."

"This is hardly the ideal place to be begin your cultural expansion." Their Vulcan Science officer looked about her with her usual cool distain. The rowdy crowd in the club was obviously not to her taste. Plus the unpleasant odor of sweat and alcohol was none too kind to T'Pol's hypersensitive nose. "Human males have been observed to think rather illogically when presented with..."

"Men are pigs when presented with a pair of breasts that are hanging out of barely there clothes." Ensign Hoshi Sato smirked in the usual female fashion and pulled out her portable language syntax computer and scan the area. "There are about fifteen languages being spoken here in this room alone. I can only guess how many dialects there are."

Archer watched her with amusement. "Okay, while we men ogle the lovely foreigners here, Hoshi would you mind making the rounds and find as much information and languages as you can? We're going to need you to learn as many as you can so we can speak to some of these people."

She smiled, knowing that Archer knew her weakness for new languages. "Yes sir."

"Mr. Reed, Trip, you guys are going to make sure that Hoshi doesn't get kidnapped or carried off to a harem somewhere." Archer looked over at T'Pol and Mayweather. "We are going to make a little trip to the merchants. See if we can trade for some improvements and information. Be careful guys, and don't piss anyone off."

"Yes sir," Trip grinned and made a mock bow. "Come along, Ensign. Time to earn our pay." Hoshi rolled her eyes and angled her body toward the door again.

Malcolm Reed, the man with the love for weapons, smiled indulgently and pocketed his phase pistol. "I think we can handle this without any problems."

Mayweather's bright smile came in the smoke filled room. "Have fun now."

* * *

Obianshu walked slowly through the dark corridors, keeping from tripping over the big boxes that were heaped haphazardly along the wall. He wished that his clients were the kind of people that would live at least in decent civilized areas of the trade station. Unfortunately, one was never to meet the good sort when one deals in the trade of information.

"Are they here?" the deep voice seemed to have come out of no where behind a crate of rather interesting blue and purple plants. Obianshu jumped a good feet in the air startled enough to put his hand over his two hearts.

It took him a moment to get his breath again. "Yes."

"And the woman?"

"She's headed down to sublevel eight with two of her shipmates."

Dark eyes watched the man carefully, gauging the man's truthfulness. With a nod, he dropped a strip of gold into the man's hand. "Then that is where we shall go."

### Sublevel Eightâ€”Merchants' Lane

Archer smiled as he picked up a rather interest pink fruit. "Look at this, it's magenta on the outside and white with black dots on the inside." He held it up to T'Pol. "What is it?"

"It's a trula. A native fruit of the third planet in this solar system that is exports for profit over the universe. It is considered a delicacy." T'Pol answered with a rather bored tone that was rather usual for the often bored science officer. The Vulcans had already well mapped this particular sector of the universe. But it was not part of her duties to discourage the crew in this little frivolous affair. Besides which, Archer was not one to be discourage when he finds anything of interest to explore.

"I had one once, sir." Travis Mayweather, their shipboard space boomer, smiled and took the fruit. "Tastes kind of like a kiwi."

"You've had a kiwi?" Archer was amused.

"Yeah, when I was at the academy. Professor Hutinson gave one to me."

"You tell me that Hutinson still teaches at the academy?" Trip asked as he came up from behind them. "That man was a hundred if he was a day when I was there."

"He was seventy-two, Trip." Archer laughed, remember the gnarled old man who was a taskmaster in quantum physics. How many time did they all get reprimanded for not grasping the concepts fast enough to suit their enthusiastic teacher. "And what are you doing here? Where is Reed and Hoshi?"

"Hoshi sat down with a guy to discuss something in a language I can't even pronounce. That girl picked up it faster than a starving horse to the feeding bin. Mr. Reed is keeping an eye on her while I do a little exploring about here." Trip picked up the magenta fruit. "What the heck is this?"


	2. Chapter 2

### Sublevel Eightâ€”Nova Cafe

Malcolm Reed glanced briefly at the waitress with the shiny green nails walk by, her hind tail swaying enough to catch a dead man's attention. And while he has always been a sensible man when it came to the affairs of the heart, he couldn't help but wonder about his future prospects. With his career destined to be part of a ship crew, he couldn't quite see his future mate as wanting to devote herself to interstellar travel, not many would, even with all the excitement of first contact. They would have to be someone like...Hum...It was pretty sad that he couldn't name one female in his close acquaintance that would enjoy the prospects of a life in space.

The tactical officer glanced briefly over his shoulder at the young Ensign currently engaged in a lively conversation with a man that appeared to have gills in his neck and triple levered noses. The strange almost clicking sound emanating from both made no sense whatsoever to Malcolm but then again, he wasn't the linguistics expert.

Turning back to survey the room, he wondered for a moment if he should order a drink or something. The bubbling blue drink looked interesting enough to tempt him. But then again, for all he knew it was some sort of acid that aliens drank to get high. For that he would simply raid Commander Tucker's storage closet of booze.

"Lt. Commander Reed?" Hoshi smiled up at the slight man with the dark intense eyes that always seem so serious except when he talks about blowing something up. Hoshi has yet to understand what it was about men and their toys. "Mr. Cliqu-Shue has offered to show me some of his book about his home world. Would that be all right with you?"

"You shouldn't be going off with some stranger, Hoshi. And you can call me Malcolm when we're not in front of the Captain or on the bridge." He said in his usual mild manner tone.

"I'm not going to go off with a stranger. I've just spent the last hour with this guy, you don't think that I can figure out whether he is trust worthy or not? Besides, I want to find out more about this culture." She smiled again at him, her sweet innocent eyes wide with excitement. "Did you know that they have eighteen different dialects on his planet based on only six tonal sounds made from the palette and tongue? And his planet is 97% water base."

"I kind of figured with the gills and all." Malcolm looked over the Ensigns shoulder at the gray-faced man still sitting there patiently for the young woman to return. "I don't think this is a good idea, Hoshi."

"The Captain said for me to learn as much as I can while we are orbiting this planet." She pointed out logically.

He sighed. Sometime he wondered if all women were partly Vulcans, they all seem to know just when and how to use their left jab of logic when they wanted something that seems too dangerous to be spoken of. It really does amaze him that after centuries of evolution, men has yet to figure out why they are often talked into doing the illogical by women that uses what should appear to be illogical reason. Look at Adam...

"Malcolm," she handed him her translator. "Look at all this. I got this in one sitting with the man. Think of all I can learn with a little bit of literature and music. It'll only take ten minutes. I'll be right back."

"Oh no you don't," he shook his head. "If you're going, so am I. I certainly do not want to face Captain Archer's wrath should anything untimely happen to you." He sighed resignedly. "Let's get this over with."

"Should we inform Commander Tucker?" She asked, almost glowing with happiness now that she was going to get a chance to expand her knowledge of languages.

"Why?" Malcolm shrugged. "It's just a little detour."

Sublevel Eightâ€”Merchants' Lane

"Captain, you have got to try this." Trip picked up the purple and red fruit. "It tastes just like a Florida peach."

"Careful," Travis said with a grin. "I heard Trillians uses that stuff the way humans use prunes."

"Huh?" Trip frowned in confusion.

Archer bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. "What Lt. Mayweather meant was that the fruit is used as a laxative."

Trip made a face and put the fruit down slowly as if it suddenly turned into a bomb. "Thanks for the warning after I've had a dozen of them."

Jonathan Archer laughed then with great fun. The little side trip to the trading post was turning out to be a whole lot more fun than he had expected. "Oh, relax. I'm sure we can find you a john somewhere around here."

"A normal one?" Trip asked with a rolling of his eyes as he remembered a particularly interesting washroom that involved a tub of some sort. Both he and Malcolm Reed turn about and left as quickly as their legs could carry them.

Travis Mayweather laughed and continued to scan the area for anything recognizable and interesting to show the good captain. He felt somewhat like a tour guide. Being the only one that's ever really done any extensive space travel, he felt like it was his job to make sure no one step on any ticking bombs. "Hey, it's a..."

"Perhaps now would be a good time to remind you that it has been almost two hours since we've parted company with Lt. Reed and Ensign Sato." T'Pol said in her even, emotionless voice.

Trip grinned mockingly sweet at her. "But it's only been an hour since I've seen them."

The captain frowned. "Do you think it's necessary? I don't want those two to think that I've got no confidence in their ability to play nice with the natives."

"I'm sure they're fine." Trip said as he caught the strange little green stick that Lt. Mayweather had tossed to him. "Malcolm will call if there was anything that Hoshi needs. What's this?"

"It's call a tongue flute." Travis grinned, showing all this white teeth suddenly, looking very much the young naive man that he was. "My mother was great at playing one of these but I could never quite figure out how to keep from swallowing it."

Jonathan and Trip exchanged laughing glances before shaking their heads and continuing on. "Come along T'Pol, I sure everything is fine with those two. Besides, Malcolm knows how to handle himself."

"You forget Captain, Ensign Sato has a rather...squeamish nature when it comes to the unknown." The Vulcan was watching everything with careful cautious glances.

"Don't worry," Trip reassured them once again. "Hoshi's cute enough when she's into her translator mode to keep from screaming her head off when something strange comes along that might normally frighten her." He rolled his eyes. "I've never seen anyone charm people into babble to her in their native tongue so she could record them and learn to speak it the way she does."

"That's why she's here, Trip." Jonathan picked up the clear blue vase with interest. It would look real nice with some irises in them.

"Nevertheless..."

"T'Pol," Trip sighed. "If you keep this up, I'd have to say that you are playing mother hen to the gal. Sheesh, she ain't a kid no more."

T'Pol made no reply to that, her eyes glowed dark with repressed disapproval. She did not like that the away team has been separated for this long with out any word from the other two as to their activities and location. But it was not her place to play "mother-hen" has Commander Tucker so kindly put it. If the Captain did not have any reason to feel concern, then she should not either.

Just then, something dark and big passed by the corner of her visual field. Turning forward it, she frowned. There was a moment there that she felt that it looked strangely familiar. But perhaps...Shaking her head, she dismissed it. It was not of her concern.


	3. Chapter 3

### Sublevel Eightâ€”Temporary Quarters

"Commander, listen to this." Hoshi thrust the earpiece out to him with her eyes all dreamy and beautiful. She had the look of a child given a great present. "Isn't it wonderful? I could listen to this all day."

Malcolm frowned as he put the piece to his ear cautiously. "It sounds kind of like the whale calls off the coast of Wales."

"Well, they are kind of like echograms." She smiled and pressed the piece to a stop. Brushing a lock of hair back, she looked around their alien host's quarters with great interest. The soft sea-foam green and light blue reminded Hoshi of the Pacific Ocean on clear summer days. "Mr. Cliqu-Shue says that it is a lullaby that they would sing to their children before tucking them into bed."

"Do they sleep in beds?"

"Well, no." The dainty shoulders came up and down quickly. "They actually sleep in freshwater tanks. Unlike the seas and oceans of Earth, their world is mostly freshwater."

"Great for trout fishing." Malcolm said quietly as he kept an eye on Mr. Chiqu-Shue. The man was nice enough but there was something about the way he kept watching Hoshi that Malcolm didn't particularly liked. Like he wanted something from her. Had he been a man of fancy, he might believe that the gilled creature was sweet on the young Ensign. But he knew better than that. Hoshi had made her mission clear to the man right from the beginning. Well, at least he thought she had made it clear. It was hard to tell with all the clicking sounds. "Are we almost done?"

She nodded. "I just want to download one more novel that Mr. Cliqu-Shue has recommended. I'm given him some of our literature as well. Do you think 'A Christmas Carol,' 'Moby Dick,' Shakespeare's 'Romeo and Juliet,' "To Kill a Mockingbird," and Edger Allen Poe's "The Raven" is good enough?"

"Yeah, sounds like a sufficient range of taste." He glanced at the door suddenly. For a moment, he could have sworn there was something there. Yet gazing at it, he could see that it was empty. Yet he could feel the tiny hairs on the back of his neck stand up on ends. "Stay here a second." He instructed as he moved to the door.

"What is it, Malcolm?" Hoshi felt the goosebumps on her arms rose to attention. It was never far from the back of her mind that they were the aliens in their travel. These people they visit, want to learn from, know nothing about earth and humans. "Should I call for..."

"Don't move," he motion for her to stay back as he leaned over the edge of the open doorway. A flash of something dark turned the corner before he could get a good look at it. "Someone is watching us. I want you to stay here and get the captain on the horn if I don't come back in three minutes. I'm just going to take a peek around the corridors."

"But..." she held out a restraining arm.

"That's an order, Ensign." He insisted. When she nodded in reluctant response, he headed out the door, phaser first.

The hallways were eerily quiet now, where as before it had been crowded with people of Mr. Chiqu-Shue's kind. Something had scared the people that lived periodically on the trading post into hiding. While Malcolm could imagine that the smell in the hallway alone would entrance him to go hide under the cover, there was likely to be a bigger threat than under usage of deodorants to scare these people away.

Holding his phaser in front of him, he moved cautiously toward where he had seen the shadowy figure. There were moments like these that made him wonder why he went into Starfleet in the first place. Heck, he could be sitting safely somewhere on earth researching the amount of damage a phaser rifle would have on a Klingon armor. But no, he was walking around in a dimly lit corridor where not even dogs would...

Malcolm never saw the blow come, nor than would he have had any real chance defending himself from his assailant. In the end, it was all rather quiet.

Sublevel Eightâ€”Merchants' Lane

"Captain," T'Pol felt the need to try once again. She's never been an overly cautious type, at least not compared to most of her kind. But there was something about the silence from the other two that was penetrating her usual peace. "I believe it is time to check on Lt. Cdr. Reed and Ensign Sato. We have yet to hear from them in some time now."

Archer sighed. He had always been taught that Vulcans had no emotion whatsoever. But the way Sub commander T'Pol has been after him about checking up on their two wondering crewmembers, he would think that she cared about them. With an indulging smile, he nodded his head. "All right, I guess it is about time that we headed back to the ship for the night." Taking his communicator out, he suddenly remembered that he had to ask Trip to replace the one he lost several days ago in his quarters. He has yet to locate the darn thing, though he had a sneaking suspicion that Porthos had something to do with it. "Captain Archer to Lt. Commander Reed."

There was silence as Trip and Travis continued to exclaim over a strangely shaped statue that resembled something out of a bad sci-fi movie in the early 20th century. Only this one they knew to be life like since the woman it was model after stood not three feet from it, with the same amazingly large feet as in the statue.

"Archer to Reed, come in Malcolm." Jonathan looked up to see his science officer arch her brow. "I'm sure that it's nothing to..." The static that came through the communicator caught Tucker and Mayweather's attention. "Captain Archer to Ensign Sato. Hoshi?"

Commander Tucker had always been one to believe in being a cautious man. "Commander Tucker to Lt. Commander Reed. Hey Malcolm, answer your damn communicator. You're freaking out the captain here."

Still nothing.

Tucker and Archer traded concerned glances. Trip's blue eyes reflected his disgust with himself for not having stayed with the two. "Maybe it's time we headed back toward the Nova Caf, Captain."

Archer nodded his head seriously. "Good idea."


	4. Chapter 4

### Sublevel Eightâ€”Temporary Quarters

Hoshi glanced fretfully at the empty door way and clutched her communicator. Biting her lower lip, she decided to give the Commander another minute to come back. This was not the time to panic and make a complete fool of herself. "Come on, Malcolm. Where are you?"

"I'm sure it is nothing, my lady." Mr. Chiqu-Shue's voice was gentle, almost sympathetic as he poured some wine into two goblets. "Have some of this, very good for the calming of the soul."

She smiled and took the glass politely without any intention of trying the green liquid that hissed and popped in the glass. "I know that this must seem a bit overly cautious of Malcolm but..."

"No, no," he waved one webbed hand with total understanding. "A man must always protect what is in his care. He is correct to want to protect you. I would no doubt do the same were I in his place." He nodded and smiled as his eyes traveled lazily down the length of Hoshi's body as she continuously looked over her shoulder at the empty doorway. "Yes, I believe that if I had you in my care, I would do whatever is necessary to protect such a fine..." He suddenly stood straighter, his eyes focused on something past Hoshi's shoulders.

Turning about, the young Asian woman was surprised to see another of Mr. Chiqu-Shue's species standing with a rather amused gaze at the door. The man wore a smirk and spoke in a manner that made Hoshi nervous. "Well, what do we have here..."

"Obianshu," Chiqu-Shue frowned, strangely concerned. While the young ensign may not know the business in which Obianshu deals in, he certainly did. "What are you doing here?"

"And how did you get pass Lt. Commander Reed?" Hoshi asked, more shocked than afraid. She knew from reading personnel records that Malcolm Reed had one of the most impressive track records for security operations. "Where is..." She took several steps back as three massive creatures...Amend that, she knew exactly what they were. "Klingons."

The three towering figures glanced at each other. Hoshi was sure not one was under seven feet in height and about as wide across as she was tall. They were all wearing various armor-like uniforms with more metal and leather than she's seen at a rock concert.

The one with the big black chest plate snorted with amusement. "This frail little thing?"

"She is exactly as described." A blood red patch covered the second warrior's left eye. There was a strange black marking on the red that made Hoshi believe that it was a symbol of status. "Let us finish this."

"And the price?" The oily man asked with a grin.

Chiqu-Shue looked as surprised by this turn of events as Hoshi was feeling. "Obianshu, what are you doing?" He moved to put Hoshi behind him, bravely putting his fate in the hands of the three massive mountains in his quarters. "You will not harm the young lady."

Obianshu smiled, reminding Hoshi of a snake in the grass. "They have no intentions of hurting the child. They merely want to borrow her for a bit."

"Borrow?" Hoshi asked, her fears beginning to catch up with her. Coupled by her suddenly and sure concern for Lt. Commander Reed. "What have you done to Malcolm?"

"The pale pasty man?" The third Klingon had a long ugly scar across his cheek sneered with disgust. "We should have sent him to what god he prays to."

"You killed him?" Hoshi hadn't realized that her voice rose to a painfully squeaky tone.

The three Klingon's made grunts of discomfort as Mr. Chiqu-Shue laid a calming hand on her arm. "Don't irritate them."

Her eyes were wide with not fear, but gravely sadness.

"We did not kill the little man," Metal chest answered. "He sleeps with a big bump on the head."

She literally withered with relief. The thought of seeing another dead body was not one she looked forward to. Plus the fact was she rather liked Malcolm, he has always been kind to her. Now that she knew that he was safe, even if he was going to wake up with possibly the worse headache in the history of headaches, she could concentrate on her own problems. And problems she had plenty, including the three Klingon warriors in front of her. "What do you want?"

"You will come with us." The warrior with the red patch stated simply, as if it was never in doubt.

"And if I don't?" She was rather surprised at her own boldness there.

The three Klingons obviously liked that she at least showed some spirit. "Then you're friend will not live to see another moon."

She didn't doubt from the long curved knife that scar face pulled out that they were telling her the truth. "What could you possibly want from me?"

The three traded looks, as if that answer had to be obvious. "Your skills."

Sublevel Eightâ€”Nova Cafe

"Bartender said that he saw all three heading toward the temporary quarters that the station assign to traveling merchants." Travis reported, his usually youthful smooth brows marred with concern for their missing teammates. He knew better than most the danger that one faced in space.

"Trip, what's the guy's name?" Archer asked, he was more worried over the situation than he would like the others to think. While he trusted that Malcolm was a good soldier and would no doubt protect Hoshi to the best of his ability and that they should both be fine, the fact was that they lost communications with them and now they were no longer where they were suppose to be.

"Chew-Shew something." Tucker ran his hand through his dark blond hair in a nervous gesture that Archer recognized all too well. "I didn't catch everything that was being said. There was all them clicking."

"You were not paying attention." T'Pol announced, rather irritated that they must rely on the spotty memory of the irresponsible commander to find their missing crew.

"T'Pol," Archer warned. "Now is not the time."

"She's right, Cap'ain." Trip wanted to slam his fist into something hard to relieve some of the pent up angry with himself for having left those two alone. "I should have been more careful."

"You couldn't have known." Archer said, throwing the Vulcan science officer a look that was meant to reprimand her. But she merely answered with a raised knowing brow. "Let's just find them and get back to the ship."

"The temporary quarters usually aren't that big." Travis offered with a sympathetic look for the tormented Commander. "Maybe if we go take a walk through them, we may come across something that will help us. Standard procedure would have Lt. Commander Reed keeping the door open for easy access."

"I never understood that," Tucker muttered. "Makes for easy rear attack."

"Let's go then," Archer sighed and looked over at the bar counter. "Weapons out, we stick together. No one plays hero, got that?" That last one specifically for Trip.

With a quick nod, Mayweather lead the way toward the dimly lit hallway. The strange silence of the living quarters compared to the crowded noisy promenade area made the situation even graver. "I've never seen quarter area this quiet before." Travis whispered, afraid to disturb anything.

"Really?" Jonathan was beginning to show the strain of the tension. "Never?"

"Never," Travis made a face as a strange smell caught his attention. It was coppery and strangely familiar. "What the..."

"Blood," T'Pol announced, her hypersensitive nose wrinkled with distaste.

"Blood?" Archer didn't really doubt it, he recognized the smell as well but he did not want to believe it. "Find the source."

"I am hardly a bloodhound, Captain." T'Pol answered with an arched brow.

Jonathan wasn't sure it was meant to be funny but he smiled anyways. "I meant it in a general sense, T'Pol. Not you exclusively."

The Vulcan made no reply but continue to follow the scent. They round the corner cautiously then broke into a run as they spotted the source.

"Malcolm," Commander Tucker was the first to get to the down man. "Damn it."

"Slowly," Archer said as they turned the back onto his side, to see the wound that caused the small puddle of blood on the metal flooring. "Looks like a blow to the neck with something sharp. Concussion?"

"I do not believe so," T'Pol made a quick scan. Her tricorder any not be a medical one, but it was efficient enough for her to make a partial measurement. "He will live."

"I kind of guessed that," Tucker said irritated. "Where's Hoshi?"

"Fan out toward the next corridor," Archer instructed the two men as T'Pol continued to scan Mr. Reed. "Find Hoshi."

Tucker and Mayweather got up and jogged down the hallway, rounding it in sharp movement, one going high while the other went low. "Nothing sir." Mayweahter reported.

"Hold it," Tucker said quietly, holding a restraining on Mayweather's arm as the younger man moved to go back to the fallen comrade. "There's an open door down here."

Travis turned back and peeked around the corner again, looking toward where Commander Tucker was pointing. "You're right. Captain," he called over his shoulder.

"Hold on a second," Archer instructed as he helped a moaning Reed into a sitting position. While the man's face was pale was parchment paper, his neck and shoulders were generously soaked in his own blood, creating a ring of crimson around him. "How are you feeling, Mr. Reed?"

"Like someone dropped a bloody anchor on me head." He shook his head to clear his blurry vision, but only succeeded to make himself dizzy. "Oh hell."

"Take it easy." Archer said as the Vulcan science officer pressed a small clothe to the back of the man's neck. Where she got the make-shift bandage he had no idea. "You have a nasty bump there." He glanced up as Tucker and Mayweather knelt down next to them. "Well?"

"An open..."

"Hoshi!" Reed started to stand but groaned as his vision shifted and turned on him. Putting one hand against the wall, he managed to get himself into an upright position. "Bloody hell." He moved slowly but determinedly down the corridor. "I left her with that blasted alien she was talking to."

"Alone?" Archer asked as he looped one arm around the wounded man. "Here, lean on me."

"I can do this, Captain. And yeah, pretty stupid huh?" He hissed through his teeth, as every step seemed to jar his brain painfully. "It's over there."

"The open door?" Tucker asked, his face almost as pale as the bleeding Mr. Reed's.

"Yeah," he nodded his head slightly, hoping that it didn't start spinning as before. He could almost feel his own strength slowly seeping from his lead dipped limbs. "That's the one."

Tucker and Mayweather rushed to the door without thought, taking only a moment to pause at the door to position themselves defensively. They both popped around the edge at the exact same moment. Phasers raised and posed, they took a moment to survey the room before turning back the struggling armory officer trying not to put too much weight on his tall captain's shoulders.

"Well?" Reed asked, breath hard.

"You guys better come take a look at this." Mayweather said as Tucker moved into the room, weapon down.


	5. Chapter 5

### Sublevel Eightâ€”Temporary Quarters

"Oh my lord," Reed muttered darkly as he stepped into the room. "That's..."

"The guy Hoshi was talking to earlier," Tucker finished as he slowly turned the man over. "I may be wrong but I think he's still alive."

T'Pol made no sound as she moved to check on the alien who appear to be leaking some kind of green liquid on the ground. "He is alive but he is bleeding to death." She pointed to the handle of what would appear to be a small weapon of some sort. "Moving him back to the ship for medical attention would be the logical course of action at the moment."

"Where in the bloody hell is Hoshi?" Reed asked as he glanced around the small quarter. "Travis, could you go and see if there is anyone hiding in the bath."

Mayweather nodded his head and headed into the only other door in the room. Tucker pulled a soft green scarf off the couch and wrapped it gently but firmly around the handle of what he assumed was a dagger. "We'll have to leave it in there until the doctor can see it. Don't want blood gushing out."

Archer nodded his agreement and caught Reed when the man's legs wobbled under him. "Easy there, Mr. Reed."

"Thanks," Reed sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, a grave-faced Mayweather came back into the room. "Anything?" The young man shook his head slowly, sadden that he hadn't found anything.

"Okay," Archer sighed and reassessed the situation in his mind. "First of all, Hoshi is obviously not here and we can only assume this was done to get to her. We need to get the wounded back to the ship and figure things out from there. T'Pol, you and Trip are going stay here and see if anyone has heard anything about strangers asking about Hoshi or humans in general. Mayweather, since there some to be some kind of communications jammer around here, you are going to run back to the ship and get the doctor out here. We need him and some more crewmen to carry our wounded back. Take care of him," pointing to the down alien, "first. Sorry Malcolm, I know you are hurting right now but I believe that he's injuries are more serious."

"Don't apologize, sir." Reed made a face, more of disgust than pain. "Serves me right for leaving Hoshi alone in the first place."

"Not your fault." Archer patted the man on the arm and nodded for Mayweather to take off first, which he young man did phaser first.

"Yeah," Tucker sighed and leaned his arm against the wall while T'Pol attended their bleeding alien friend. "My fault entirely. Shouldn't have left the two of your alone like that. Stupid, stupid, stupid..." Trip hit his forehead hard with the palm of his head.

"Stop that!" Archer snapped. "Both of you. It was not foreseen and that was my fault. We need to move pass that, Hoshi is missing and possibly hurt. Our first priority is to her safety. You guys want to feel guilty, do it on your own time." He said ruthlessly. The last thing the two men needed was sympathy; they needed a way to be useful. "Trip, you and T'Pol stay here until the medical team gets here. Then you're to go back and canvas the area. Leave no stone unturned and no witness unquestioned. Malcolm, once you're patched up, I want you to take a look at the knife that Dr. Phlox will be extracting from our friend over there. I want the make and origin of that weapon in my hand. If we're lucky, Hoshi may not have been taken of the station. Let's see if we can find them before they move her. Obviously they want her alive for some reason, lets find her before she becomes 'un'-alive." He watched his men carefully, noting the determination in their eyes. "Okay, let's get to work."

Klingon Warbird Kollarg

The Klingons apparently saw no reason as to tie her up, since they were a) aboard their ship, b) in outer space, and c) no one wanted get close enough to the crying woman to do so. Hoshi had realized after not too long that her high pitched wailing were none too kind to the Klingon's sensitive ears. Therefore, whenever anyone one of them approached her, she would let out a wonderfully loud scream of fright. She found that this worked rather well.

Unfortunately, even the discomfort of having a near hysterical woman with them didn't deter the warriors from taking her from Mr. Chiqu-Shue's quarters. Hoshi sincerely hoped that the man was not harmed when the Klingons forcefully extracted her from the safely of behind the big soft chair that she had try to hide herself behind once they made their intentions care. Why she thought that the chair was going to protect her was beyond her, perhaps one of those naturally instinctive movements that have yet to be evolved out of the human psyche.

With a sigh, Hoshi took a good look at the room that the Klingon with the red eye-patched Klingon had thrust her in while she was making pathetic noises since his grip on her arm had been excruciatingly tight. She had to admit that the man let up some when she first cried out with pain. Apparently the Klingons weren't use to handling anything as delicate as a human before.

For a warrior race, the room was strangely comfortable. Someone obviously has taken the time to make the room comfortable for her. The walls weren't the same sharp silver gray as the corridors and bridge. A softer pale gray drapes lined the wall, making the room less harsh and intimidating. There was a soft bed in the corner; somehow Hoshi didn't see a race of warriors sleeping on feather beds. She would imagine that they slept on nails as a way of disciplining their bodies. A table sat at the side, with her translator and other various assortment of instrument on it.

Curious beyond belief, she moved to the table. Someone had hooked her translator up to another device on the table, one that resembled her shipboard universal language converter. "Hum...they weren't kidding when they said that they needed my skills."

Being that her greatest love was language, she sat down and began to play with the two equipments before her. After two hours, she was pretty certain that her grasp of the Klingon written language was as good as any linguist that should come along. Her first opportunity to study this particular culture had been under rather precautious and dangerous times, but with the silence of the room, she's beginning to rather appreciate that subtleness of the language. While it was rough and guttural sounding, it was a very complex and a fine construction of centuries of change in the vocal box. It was very likely what the prehistoric sounds of the caveman on earth would sound like. With a little more practice, Hoshi was sure she could speak like a native.

"You have begun your task." The deep grunt came from the door that had opened not too long ago, but so deep was Hoshi in her study that she failed to hear it hiss open.

She jumped up and opened her mouth to scream but stopped herself short. There was something rather familiar about this new Klingon that has entered. The lightness of his hair was different from the previous three, and there was something familiar about his voice to her ultra sensitive ears, she could almost remember..."Klaang?"

The big jumbled mass of leather, steel and hair nodded. "You are the translator on the humon ship."

She wanted to correct him on the 'humon' part but thought better of it. The last thing she wanted to do was irritate the already less than thrilled Klingon warrior. All she really could do now was nod her head fearfully.

He pulled out three thin disk-like computer chips from his back. "These are recorded conversations between the Kocklonds and some traitorous Redians, whose loyalty should have been with the empire. The high council will take care of the Redians, but we want to know what is being send between them. You will learn the language and translate the words to us."

Ensign Hoshi Sato has shown many qualities that were less than exemplarily for a space traveler, such as her tendency to 'freak out,' as Commander Tucker so generously describes. But no one ever say that she lacked curiosity. In fact, if anything else, her overly enthusiasm for her work made her both ideal for her position and liability to the crew. Her tendency to wonder off in search of new culture to study has annoyed the Captain one too many time so far in their short journey.

"You kidnap me to be your translator?" She asked, less frightened and more curious.

Klaang frowned deeply. "Yes."

"Don't your people have..."

"Not as quickly as you." He replied, rough around the edge yet still showing a strange amount of patience. "You will work now."

She nodded her head and took the disk from him, keeping as much distance between them as possible in the little room. "When do you need..."

"When you finish."

"Okaaayyyy..." She fingered the disks carefully. "And when I'm finished?"

The man looked at her with deep dark eyes that startled her with its intensity. "We will return you to your ship."

Somehow, she didn't think he meant it as reassuring but it did relieve some of her anxieties. With a weak half smile, she nodded her head and sat down to work.

"You will eat first."

She turned her head toward him with wide surprised eye. "Excuse me?"

"You are weak, small. You will need strength. We feed you food, make you bigger, stronger." He announced and reached out one hand, which clamped solidly on her upper arm. "Come."

Not that she had much choice since he all but dragged her out of her chair and out the door without even realizing it.


	6. Chapter 6

### Enterprise-Medical Bay

Captain Jonathan Archer walked down the corridor like a man possessed, his usually mild mannered eyes dark with intensity and concern. Rounding the corner at a stride that a shorter man would have to run to keep up, he barely registered that his crew were pretty much jumping out of his path as he came. They were more concern with the captain's behavior than their missing crewmate.

"Dr. Phlox, what can you tell me?" the captain asked the minute he was in the door.

"Nothing interesting," the happy doctor said with his trademark smile that seemed to stretch his face from side to side. "Our friend here is from Aquria. A water base planet some six hundred light years from here. He sustained rather mild injuries for his species. Heck, Mr. Reed was bleeding more than he was."

Jonathan could feel his patience slipping but held on tight. "How is Mr. Reed?"

"He'll be fine with a little rest. Some loss of blood but not so much that I would worry overly much." He made toward the resting tactical officer. "I find that humans are strangely resilient for such fragile physiology."

"Yes, yes," Archer waved it away. "Is he awake?"

"I'm awake, Captain." Malcolm sat up slowly, his face contorted in pain as he moved. "Where's the weapon?"

"Right here." Dr. Phlox was positively glowing with pride over his patient's show of strength. "I even cleaned it for you."

"You what?" Malcolm made a face. "So much for finger prints."

"Oh I have those for you," the good doctor grinned and pressed a smell button by Malcolm's bed. "I took the time to scan the weapon after it was removed from our friend over there and before it was thoroughly cleaned. The computer was able to lift a clean set of prints off the hand, very similar to our Aquian but then again it was of the same species."

"You saying that one of his own did this?" Archer asked picking up the small dagger with his jagged edge and thick base.

"Yes," he nodded.

Malcolm frowned. "I don't believe that I saw anyone that was watching us too closely. Other than the usual curiosity over seeing us."

"Think again Malcolm," Tucker said as he came in, catching the tail end of the conversation. "T'Pol and I asked around, someone's been stalking us."

T'Pol made a disapproving face at the chief engineer. "What Cdr. Tucker was saying is that someone has been making inquiries as to the whereabouts of a human female."

"They were asking about Hoshi."

"No specifically," T'Pol answered, glancing at the dagger that Tucker and Reed were examining now. "The general question was whether or not they had seen humans. When the answer was affirmative, they would be followed by whether a female was among them." Something in her eyes flickered.

"What is it, T'Pol?" Archer asked, knowing the look all too well now.

She seemed hesitate as to answer it. "There are certain species that collect women."

"Excuse me?" Tucker asked, his eyes reflecting his shock.

"The Milliatians collect women as a show of wealth. The more exotic the species, the more valuable they are." She replied.

"Are you saying that someone took Hoshi for their private collection?" Archer asked, his face infused with anger.

"It is but a possibility." T'Pol said quietly. "But yes, that can be the case."

Tucker made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat. "What's more exotic than a new species that's ventured into space?" He wanted to hit his head against something hard. If someone took Hoshi to be their...He was going to commit murder if that happens. "So, which species are we looking at here?"

"Let's not jump the gun here, Trip." Archer held up a hand indicating that he wanted his friend to back off for a moment. "We don't know that that is what happened."

"Captain?" Dr. Phlox called out from across the room that caught all four officers' attention. "Our visitor is awake.

* * *

Chiqu-Shue touched a webbed hand at his side, surprised that the wound was closed already. Apparently these people were not as primitive as they professed to be. Then again, if they could ever figure out how to work Hoshi-child's translating machine, he may be able to be of some help.

"Haven't you figured that thing out yet?" Malcolm asked, irritated beyond believe. His heart was still pounding in his chest cavities, fear and angry mingling generously with a dash of guilt.

"I'm an engineer," Tucker snapped back as he continued to play with the little instrument. "Not a linguistics expert." His mind had not been focused at the task at hand. It was a million miles away from here, where Hoshi was being held captive by lord knows what.

"You engineers built the bloody thing, can't you figure out how it works?"

"I can't help it if..."

"Stop it!" Archer yelled. He wasn't sure what was more annoying, the two blaming themselves for Hoshi's disappearance or the two blaming each other. "This is getting us no where."

"If we only had Hoshi's original syntax analyzer, she had only downloaded part of the material from her other one to the computer's universal translator. Said that she wanted to wait and do it later. Talking to the man seemed a whole lot more interesting at the time." Tucker muttered. "I searched everywhere for it."

"Maybe they took it with them." The doctor offered helpfully. He turned and gave the green-gilled man a smile that was just a little too wide. "Water?"

The glass of clear liquid looked refreshing. "Chilq?"

The four officer's head snapped over. It actually the first time the man has spoken since waking. Tucker's mouth dropped open, feeling ten times the fool for having not thought of it before. "Computer, recalibrate the translator." Walking over, he took the glass from the doctor and held it out to the man. "Water?"

"Chilq." Chiqu-Shue nodded his head enthusiastically and took the cup, which the good doctor added poured generously into.

"I can't pronounce that." Malcolm said disturbed but encouraged.

Archer smiled. "You don't have to as long as the translator can understand it."

Tucker smiled and looked around the room. Pointing to the doctor with his still surgical gown on, he said clearly, "Doctor."

Chiqu-Shue looked at the man that was practically covered in his blood. "Tulac."

The engineer looked down at the computer and watched it whirled. "Okay pal, you're going to have to talk to this machine until it gets your language down pact." He held the machine to him. "Help us find Hoshi."

"Hoshi," the man nodded, recognizing the machine in the man's hand. "Quospul jusek cicke. Obianshu quigh lar poule, Klingons."

"Did he say Klingons?" Malcolm asked, his brows coming together in a deep frown. "Am I hearing him right?"

"Sh..." Trip waved the question away, waiting for the computer to pick up the language and briefly wondering how Hoshi could have picked up so quickly before. "Keep talking, pal."

Chiqu-Shue seemed to understand that and held the translator closer to his mouth. "Obianshu eig monei osteic Klingons se Hoshi." He licked his drying mouth and took a drink of the blain liquid. "Hoshi nuca go avec them. Slieu not psovie choice. Klingons threatened to kill her focieni." He pointed toward Malcolm. "So she went with them."

Archer's face lit up like a star about to go nova. "Way to go, Trip." He clapped his best friend roughly on the back before turning to their only source of information at the moment. "Tell us more."

"Hoshi said that she would leave lapie if they do not hurt anyone else." He shook his head. "She did not need to try to protect me, I was nukila when the Klingons agreed. They left. Obianshu is the worse kind of trreme. He would sell his mother's sopule if it benevie him. The Klingon's gave him latium to keep quiet. Then Obianshu took out his ptolie and tried to kill me with it, apre they were gone."

Trip frowned slightly, understanding most of it. "The translator must be having some trouble with some of the words."

"But it's good enough," Archer said, feeling almost relief. Turning to their visitor, "Where is Obianshu?"

Chiqu-Shue shook his head. "Do not know. He is like a Bulms Frueki. Disappears very quickly."

Malcolm nodded his head. "Snake in the water."

"So we're looking for Klingons, huh?" Archer nodded his head. "Malcolm, can you get up?"

"Yeah," the tactical officer stood and braced himself. "I'll get started on the warp trail."

Tucker nodded his head. "I'll be down in the engineering prepping."

Archer nodded his head, knowing that his officers knew their job well. "Mr..."

"Chiqu-Shue." He smiled.

Archer didn't even try to pronounce it but merely inclined his head. "We'll have to drop you off and..."

"I understand," he got off the bed slowly, knowing that his body was weaker than usual. "I hope you find her."

"Thank you."

"And I will deal with Obianshu." He said with a smile.

Archer's brows went up for a second but he said nothing. "Good luck."

"Thank you."


	7. Chapter 7

### Klingon Warbird Kollargâ€”Mass Hall

Hoshi ducked behind Klaang as a tankard came sailing into the air, a slight victim of a brawl that had broken out across the room. The big warrior batted the tiny missile out of the way with his massive hands and continued into the room without pausing.

Strangely enough, even though she was still deathly afraid of Klaang and his massive shoulders, she felt better knowing that he had brought her here and was probably...huh, hopefully, going to protect her from his fellow warriors.

She edge as close to Klaang as she possibly could without actually touching the man. Their last meeting had not been too great after all, he all but sneered his good bye at the Enterprise crew after leaving him in the Great Council Chamber on Kronos probably hoping never to see another human again as long as he lived. Well, so much for wishes coming true.

Well heck, it's not like she sought them out. They were the ones that kidnapped her and..."Oh my god," her smooth brows wrinkled together in concern. In all the fear and excitement, she completely forgot about the fact that the crew of the Enterprise may not know what had happened to...She almost breathed a sigh of relief as she remembered that Mr. Chiqu-Shue was there and no doubt would explain it to Malcolm and the rest of the crew. She would literally have breathed a sigh of relief if not for the distinct smell of an oily unwashed body not suddenly assaulted her and a massive brick wall that was a warrior's back, knocked her off her feet and on her ass.

Catching her breath in the back of her throat, she rolled out of the way before the falling body could crush her beneath the sheer force of the body's descent to the ground helped along by the swinging fist of the man's opponent. Scrambling onto her feet again, a massive hand grabbed her roughly by the shoulder and lifted her out of harm's way just before two more bodies landed where she had been standing only a millisecond before. Unable to do anything but clutch at the hand that rescued her, her eyes still glued on the tussling bodies on the ground, she didn't realize that she was being shoved into a bench not too far from the center of the hall.

She continued to watch the fight with some morbid fascination and failed to notice that she was getting quite a bit of attention herself. Klaang glanced about the room, nothing the stares and speculation in his fellow warriors eyes. The girl may be tiny and breakable by a mere touch, but she was the only thing that they had to combat their enemies at the moment. It gulled the others to know that with all their strength and skills, they have to rely on a frail thing such as this to save them all. Of course, it helps that she was not sore on the eyes.

After taking few deep breaths and swallowing the urge to scream like a madwoman, she turned to the food-laden table and nearly screamed anyways. She stared at the massive plates and bowls overflowing with wiggling worms and crawling little crayfish like creatures.

Setting a large brown bowl in front of the tiny woman, Klaang grunted, "Eat."

"No thank you." She shook her head and pushed the bowel away with her fingertips.

"Eat!" He announced again pushing the bowl back toward her, his big hands crushing a few of the wiggling worms unfortunately enough to be hanging off the sides. He then licked the juices from his hand without thought and poured thick red wine down his throat, while keeping an eye on the rest of his comrades in arms watching their little visitor. "Wine."

She glanced at the red liquid, it had a very distinctive smell that was rather familiar and...She stared at it horrified. "Is this blood?"

Another warrior sat down next to her, jostling the bench. She glanced up briefly, noting the red eye patch, she almost shank back. "It is blood wine, will put hair on your chest."

Hoshi made a face and shoved the goblet away, as well as the bowl. There was something surreal about sitting at a medieval style table with two seven feet tall warriors trying to feed her blood and worms. "I don't want hair on my chest."

The two men laughed as if she said something uproariously funny. "You bought us a weak one, Klaang."

"She is strong enough for now, P'Mai" Klaang answered shoving the bowl back at the little woman who was turning a fascinating shade of white. "Gagh will put meat on your bones."

She looked at him then looked at the bowl of wiggling brown creatures. Closing her eyes to avoid looking at it, she asked, "Are you saying that I'm skinny?"

The two warriors glanced at one another. "Yes."

She made a face as she pushed the bowl away again, her stomach feeling distinctively queasy. "I'm in excellent health I'll have you know. I don't need any more meat on my bones, or anywhere else on my body for that matters. And I'm not eating the gagh." She said the word as if she was really about to throw up.

"You will eat," P'Mai said putting a plate of what appeared to be black spiders in front of her that made her want to gag. "You need strength."

"I eat that and I'm going to lose everything else in my stomach." She put her hand over her mouth in an effort to keep herself from gagging at all the live food in front of her.

Klaang frowned, the woman was looking singularly ill. "You do not want your food alive?" That was a definite curiosity.

"No, I don't." She shook her head. "I can handle the occasional sashmi and wosabi as well as the next person but live food?"

"What is shesheme?" P'Mai asked with a cautious eye, his only eye.

"It's sashmi," she corrected automatically, her eyes averted from the food on the table. "It's raw fish. A native dish to my country."

"What is fish?" Klaang asked but not really caring as he got up and walked toward another table. After a few moments of selections, he came back with giant plate that was double the circumference of Hoshi's waistline. "Eat."

She peeked at the plate before and noted with surprise that nothing moved. Taking a big black rocking looking piece, she sniffed it cautiously. It emanated a wonderful aroma. Next to it sat chunks something familiar in various shades of blue and brown. "Bread and cheese," she looked up gratefully and smiled shyly at the big warrior. "Thank you."

P'Mai shook his head at his friend and poured the girl something from another pitcher. "Drink, you are too dry."

Taking a tentative sip, she noted the lack of copper smell and the strange sweetness. "Honeyed mead." She laid a hand on the man's arm before the warrior could put the pitcher back. "Can I have some more? I'm awfully thirsty."

The one-eyes warrior glanced down at the tiny white hand on the sleeve of his black armor and was momentarily distracted. "You may have more." And poured the cup to overflowing.

Hoshi smiled and took sips of it so that she could set the metal goblet down without spilling anymore on herself. Then she licked her fingers of the sweetness and sat about to tackle the break and cheese. She suddenly found herself famished. It's been a while since her oatmeal breakfast. "This is wonderful," she said through a mouthful of strong cheese. "I haven't had anything like this since my trip to Italy." She informed them as she continued to eat.

P'Mai and Klaang looked at one another and then continued to watch the woman with great interest. They were not the only ones as well. The fight that had broken out earlier had ended with one man unconscious on the ground and the victor sitting on a table sipping wine with his friends, watching the pasty little thing that was eating with enough enthusiasm to impress even the Klingon warriors gathered for their end-day meal. One would think that her captain has been starving her by the way she was shoving food into her mouth, chewing the tough bread while trying to drink at the same time.

Someone came around and placed another selection of cheese before her, which she acknowledged with a thanking nod of her head. "Aren't you eating?" She asked Klaang as he continued to drink his wine and watch her.

He nodded his head and picked up a handful of gagh. That was pretty much enough to make Hoshi lose her appetite. She stopped eating so abruptly that it took the men a moment to realize that she had turned a rather unbecoming shade of green. As Klaang shoved the fist full of wiggling worms into his mouth, Hoshi made a dash across the room to empty her stomach into a huge bin by the side of the room. She was lucky she had chosen the waste-bin and not the wine-bin to toss her cookies.

The men watched with strange enthrallment as Hoshi slumped against the wall and made a disgusted face. "I hate it when I do that."

P'Mai smiled a toothy grin as he watched the tiny woman take deep calming breaths, oblivious of the men watching her, and turned back to Klaang. "I like her. She's funny."

### Enterpriseâ€”Bridge

"Captain," T'Pol's eyes glanced up from the monitor that she and Lt. Commander Reed had been hovering over. "We believe we've found them."

"The Klingons?" Archer asked as he rounded the terminal top with quick moments.

"Yes sir," Reed sighed, he had been hoping to find the Klingon's still on the station where they can get to them easily. "Apparently, they've been gone for some time now. The trail is pretty cold."

"But there is a trail, right?" Archer asked pointedly.

"Yes sir." Reed answer with a nod of his head. "We can follow it."

"Then let's get going. Archer to Engineering."

"Tucker here, have we found something?"

"The engine ready to go to warp, Trip?" Archer sat down in his chair and glanced briefly at Ensign Thomas Williams, who was temporarily acting as communications officer. It was strange to see the young man there where Hoshi usually was.

"We were ready a hour ago." Tucker announced as his feet clamored down the ladder. "Let's get going already."

"Then we're on our way. Mayweather..."

"Course laid in, sir." Travis's competent hands rested lightly on the control in front of him. He was practically humming with anticipation.

"Then let's go find Hoshi."


	8. Chapter 8

### Klingon Warbird Kollarg

The language in question really wasn't all that complicated in the ways of foreign languages. It was make up of sixteen syntaxes that comprised of fourteen polimo...well, sufficient to say that it was easy enough for her to lean in a day or two's time if Hoshi took her time, less if she was in a hurry.

And Hoshi was in a big hurry to get off this particular ship. Not only did Klingons eat live food, they also neither bathed nor wore perfume to cover the distinctively unpleasant odors radiating from their bodies. Shaking her head, the young Japanese linguist sighed resignedly. "This must be how T'Pol feels being around all the guys after they leave the gym." She muttered, her fingers working slowly across the vocabulary of words the computer has already distinguished from the conversation. She could almost make out what was being said.

The meal the night before was enough to make her dread breakfast, she could only imagine what kinds of new tortures the Klingon are going to find for her. Perhaps watching her turn the color of a gully fish was somewhat amusing to them, but it certainly wasn't to her abused stomach. The mead last night was the only thing that stayed down and now she's got a headache that size of Jupiter's third moon.

Customary as they are to not knocking, Klaang and his friends walked in without so much as a beep of the door. Hoshi didn't bother looking up; she was too deep into the world of language to be bothered with little things like three seven feet tall warriors standing in the doorway.

P'Mai watched the little woman with the corners of his lips curled in what could described as a smile on his face that looked strange on the usually serious faced warrior with eighty kills to his name. The tiny thing was certainly fascinating to watch with her dark eyes and strange behaviors. "Time for..."

Hoshi let out scream that came close to shattering the eardrums of all three warriors as she clutched at her heart, trying to return it to a semi normal rate. Staring at the three with wide frightened eyes, she gasped for breath.

Lucudur was the youngest officer on the ship; his hair was not as long nor as wild as his elders. It has yet had the proper time to grow and tangle. His ears however were every bit as sharp as his comrades. Almost wincing with pain, he grabbed his ears with his not so clean hands. "Does she always greet a man this way?"

Klaang frowned at the woman still staring at them as if they had all turned into some horrible creatures from deep space. "What is the matter with you?"

Swallowing hard, she hoped her heart wasn't going jump right out of her mouth. "What's wrong with me?" She was rather surprised at how outraged she sounded at the moment. "What's the matter with you people? Haven't anyone ever taught you to..." She couldn't remember the word in Klingon so she opinioned for English. "...to knock?"

"Knock?" Lucudur frowned, confused by the word. Obviously, there was nothing of the sort in Klingon language. "What is that?"

"Can you eat it?" P'Mai asked sincerely.

"We should eat now." Klaang announced with a quick glance for his comrades. They had insisted on accompanying him to get the girl, but now they were behaving in a manner that he was unaccustomed to. There was a strangeness going on here. "You need to eat."

"Not what you're giving me." She rubbed her stomach slowly, remembering the night before. She was hungry but the very thought of having to watch her Klingon captives eat was enough to make her want to avoid it at all cost, including a little spontaneous fasting. "I'll just stay here and work on this if it's all the same to you."

"You need to eat. You are weak." Klaang said wisely, nodding his head slowly to emphasize his point. "You will eat."

Hoshi ran her tongue slowly over her tongue wondering what in the world was making her so bold. Perhaps it was the knowledge that these Klingons had gone to a lot of trouble to bring her here because she was the only one that can do what she does. To kill her now would be rather silly. "And if I don't?"

P'Mai leaned over and got right into her face. The smile he wore was sickeningly sweet enough on such a dangerous face that it made her heart skip a beat. "Then we will simply have to find a way to get food into your stomach."

Sitting there a moment, Hoshi allowed her mind a nightmarish moment of imagination. "All right then I guess I'll go with you." She smiled weakly but backed out of the chair slowly, careful not to come in contact with the warrior. "But don't say I didn't warn you when I lose my stomach on your...huh..." She glanced down at the leather and steel feet of the warriors. "Boots."

"How does one lose one's stomach?" Lucudur asked with rapid curiosity.

The young ensign sighed with resignation. If the food doesn't do it, the cultural difference is going to be the death of her. Though if she was completely honest with herself, she was actually beginning to enjoy these little strange conversations. "This is going to be a fun trip."

### Enterpriseâ€”Bridge

"Looks like they are not headed pack to Kronos, Captain." Reed's brows were now in a near constant knot. "From these trials, we're looking at a trial that converges with three other ships and headed toward another sector all together."

"Where in tar nations are they taking her?" Tucker muttered as he looked over Reed's shoulders at the Vulcan star charts. "There's nothing there but a couple of gas balls and empty waste baskets for space junk."

"Perhaps Commander," T'Pol said with her calm and stoic air. "The Trisellar Nebula is not their final destination."

"You mean they are going pass it?" Reed asked, his dark eyes filled with concern. "You've got nothing pass the thirteenth planet in that system."

"Our science team has yet to report back from a mission to..."

"In other words," Archer said looking over at the science officer. "You guys have no idea what's in that direction either."

The Vulcan's superior brow went up again. "That would be correct, Captain."

"Great," Archer muttered under his breath. He did not need this right now. With Hoshi gone, the crew picking up the tension from the senior staff and no accurate star chart to follow, they were possibly heading into some real danger. Not that he had any kind of choice at the moment. Hoshi was a friend. More than that, he had been the one to talk her into taking the assignment in space, where she was uncomfortable and skittish. For gosh sakes, the girl jumps at every little shake the ship makes. What was he thinking, bring a young vulnerable woman into a place like this? For all he knew, the Klingons kept harems. "T'Pol, is there anything you can tell us about where we're headed?"

The dark faced Vulcan woman moved from her science station toward the main computer console behind where Hoshi usually sat. "The Trisellar Nebula had been known to be a favorite among the Kocklonds to be used as a temporary station."

Tucker frowned. "Temporary Station?"

Reed sighed and shook his head. "You're saying that these Kocklonds uses it as a hide away."

"Kocklonds are what humans call pirates. They are very dangerous, very unpredictable."

Mayweather failed to keep his voice low as he muttered, "Very human."

T'Pol looked at the young man. "Precisely."

"Are the Klingons and these Kocklonds allies?"

The Vulcan returned to her station and stared with pouting lips at the Captain. "The Kocklonds have no loyalty to anyone, including their own kind. Klingons do not believe that any races is equal to their savage-like society." There was just enough contempt in T'Pol's voice to irritate Tucker.

"Oh now T'Pol, not all of us can be dull as dish water." He said with a grin. "After all, if the universe were all as 'logical' and 'controlled' as the Vulcans, we might as well all be dead."

Reed cracked a smile for the first time since waking up from this forced nap. Shaking his head, he wondered for a moment if the banter between the redneck American engineer and the stick in the mud Vulcan science officer was going to last through their entire mission. If it were, it was sure to provide a great deal of entertainment for the rest of the crew.

"What the hell would the Klingons want with Hoshi?" Arach asked more to himself than the rest of the bridge crew.

Tucker shrugged his broad shoulders. "Maybe they needed someone that is as fluent as Hoshi is with every language from this side of the Milky Way to..."

"Maybe they needed to trade her for some..." Mayweather realized what he was saying and felt infinitely silly. "Forget I said that."

"Gladly," Trip muttered darkly.

Archer sighed. This was beginning to look a little more complicated than a kidnapping. "The Kocklonds, are they friendly? For pirates I mean."

"Hardly." T'Pol replied, her tone completely devoid of emotions.

Reed glared at the science officer. "You know T'Pol, you could at least pretend to be concerned for Hoshi's safety."

"It is highly unlikely that Ensign Sato is in any real danger."

"What makes you say that?" Tucker asked, his eyes narrowing in suspension. They may have gone through a heck lot with the Vulcan, but his distrust in them were still here.

T'Pol turned her dark exotic eyes toward him. "The Klingons obviously want her for some unknown reason. They went to some considerable trouble to obtain her; including working with one that is outside of their race. It is very unlike the Klingons to not use their brute approach by taking Ensign Sato simply because they want her. They were careful to assure her safety in obtaining her. She is valuable to them at the moment. They will not harm her."

Archer nodded his head. "Agreed. Now lets find her before they no longer need her."

Reed frowned, his mind deeply troubled by the fact that Hoshi's chances of survival depended on her usefulness to the Klingons. "Lt. Mayweather, I'm going to transfer the course to you now."

"You draw the map and I'll follow it to the last curve." Travis Mayweather said, his usual boyish smile lost in the gravity of the situation.

Archer shook his head. He wanted to know why the Klingons had taken the girl in the first place. Scratch that, he wanted Hoshi back and then to learn why they had taken her. This little excursion in cultural expansion was turning into something none of them expected.


	9. Chapter 9

### Klingon Warbird Kollarg

"From what I can make out, there was an exchange of weapons for quite a bit of information. Something about the Celebration of Kain, security details to be exact." Hoshi frowned as she small recorder continued to play in her ear. The more she listened to it, the more she could make out but the less she understood. "What's the Celebration of Kain?"

Klaang grunted a non-answer then sat there for a long moment with his elbows on the table and his face set in a deep frown. "It is a day of feast on our home world."

P'Mai nodded his head; his much scarred faced deeply disturbed by this news. "All of Kronos rest of eight days to observe the passing of our great leader." Pouring himself some bloodwine, he handed a goblet to human female without thought.

Hoshi nodded her thanks but did not so much as glance at the wine. "Is there to be some kind of ceremony that would involve lighting something?"

"Yes," Klaang shook his head. The treachery burned his insides with anger. "The Chalice of T'Karona."

Hoshi groaned inwardly. The conversation was ridiculously difficult. It was like pulling teeth from some very badly behaved lions, always careful to pull one's hand back as quickly as possible so as not to get it bitten off. It was a slow and painful process. "And the Chalice is a representation of what?"

The six warriors sitting at the round table looked at her as if she was a complete idiot.

"Okay, look," losing her patience pretty damn fast for someone who was still in immediate danger. "I'm not from Kronos, I don't know your history, your culture or your habits. You want me help you, you're going to have to be a little more forthcoming with your side of the information."

Five of the six faces turned toward her dropped into deep frowns that made Hoshi want to rip her own tongue out. Her mother always said her wayward tongue was going to get her in trouble someday. Looks like that day has finally come.

"Polika," Klaang's gruff voice almost made the young ensign jump again. "Give the woman a copy of The Toctra."

"What's the..."

"A book of your history," P'Mai explained. He was the only one that appeared amused by her never-ending questions. "You will find all you need on our people in that book."

Hoshi forced herself to smile at him gratefully. But inwardly she was dreading the amount of reading it was going to take to go through lord knows how many centuries of Klingon history.

### Enterpriseâ€”Bridge

Macolm Reed has always pride himself in being one of the most patient men that ever had the good fortunes of working in Starfleet. But at the moment, he would give all the torpedoes in the storage bay to make the ship go faster than it's 4.1 warp. The waiting was incredibly nerve wrecking.

"Eat something," Dr. Phlox suggested as he took a seat across from the tired looking tactical officer. "A little nourishment will help keep your strength up since you refuse to rest."

"With all due respect, doctor, sleep is the last thing I want to be doing right now." Reed did not bother to add that his short nap not two hours before had been filled with horrible scenes of slave auctions and screams of horror that resembled a certain young ensign he lost to some violent aliens.

"Having trouble sleeping?" the wide-eyed doctor was looking at the Englishman with much fascination. "Perhaps I can suggest some warm milk and cookies. I believe you human's find it very helpful. Must be the melentonin in the milk that causes one to..."

"Malcolm, I...Oh sorry." Cdr. Tucker inclined his head apologetically at the doctor. "Didn't meant o interrupt but I need the Reed for a minute or two."

"Not at all," the cheerful doctor grinned and waved them off. "Just babbling on about the wonders that you human find in the simplest things in the galaxy. My, it must be so fascinating to be human."

Tucker frowned as he led Reed away with a firm grip on the slighter man's arm. "I don't care how many times he looks at me with those funny eyes, I still get the feeling like I'm a bug in a jar."

"Is there any particular reason you're dragging me down the corridor like a dog on a leash for it is just for the sheer enjoyment of it?" Reed asked rather irritated by the fact that Commander Tucker appeared to have forgotten his entire existence.

"Oh sorry." Tucker gave him a small grin in apology. "Mind somewhere else all together.

"I can see that." Reed rubbed his elbow as if Trip's grip really had hurt him. "Now what can I do for you?"

The chief engineer led them through the corridor in silence until they came to an empty junction. "Listen, I wanted to apologize my behavior lately. Ain't doing anyone good me blaming you, you blaming me, least of all Ensign Hoshi."

"Ensign Sato." Reed corrected.

"Yeah yeah," Trip waved it away easily. "Looks, I'm just saying that I didn't mean to take my anger out on you or anyone else, just...I've got sisters of my own and..."

"Say no more," Reed nodded his head in complete understanding. "I apologize as well. Neither of us did a very good job but to be fair, we couldn't possibly have known or guessed that something like this was going to happen."

"Absolutely," Trip agreed enthusiastically. "The Klingons ain't the most social people we've met so far. How would we to know that they'd try something like this?"

"Yes and fighting amongst ourselves is hardly productive."

"Damn straight."

Reed held out his hand. "Friends?"

"You bet your knickers that we are."

"Knickers?"

"Never you mind." Tucker made a face. "Something my grandma used to say."

### Klingon Warbird Kollarg

Hoshi swallow hard and tried to push down the nauseating feeling at the pit of her stomach. If she thought the Klingons were savages before, the description of their mating ritual only sealed the deal. Shaking her head, she scrolled further along the achieves, thankful for their digital copy rather than what she had imagined would be a dozen books bound by the hide of their enemies.

The swishing of the doors opening gave her forewarning to keep her composure this time around. Polite little things like knocking on doors and bathing seemed to be a foreign thing to the rough and gruff Klingons. Though it was interesting for her to see little touches of softest behind some of the iron hard armor. For instances, she found out that that young Lucudur had been the one to decorate the door so as not to appear so harsh. And P'Mai had a rather bizarre sense of humor, but having a humor was a great improvement to the stoic faced Klaang.

"Klaang commands that you not be disturbed." It was more of an announcement than anything and the young Klingon, Frukra she believed his name was, appeared rather uncomfortable in giving it. "We feed you. Nothing alive." He made a face of distaste.

"Thank you." She said with a sigh, her back aching from the many hours hunched over a table with data pads and computer screens. "I really do appreciate your chef killing it before serving it to me."

"You are weak." Frukra said as he continued to study the young woman before him as if she was some exotic fish in a tank. "Why have you been chosen?"

"Because I'm good at what I do," she replied calmly hoping he would go away and leave her to her work. "Who else do you know can translate a language in less than three days?"

"But he need not marry you to gain your skills."

Hoshi's head whipped around so fast that for a moment she was afraid she may have given herself whiplash. "WHAT?"

Frukra frowned then leaned forward slightly. "I SAID, HE NEED NOT..."

Hoshi winced painfully and backed away from the bellowing voice. "You don't have to yelled."

Confusion was written all over the man's face, a rather strange expression on the warrior's face. "But you said..."

"It was a rhetorical question," she explained exasperated by the cultural difference in general. "I mean was why did you mean by that?"

Frukra wore an expression that could be construed as confusion on any other species but Klingon. "P'Mai said..."

"Gossiping as women do?" P'Mai asked from the open doorway.

Hoshi wasn't sure if she should take offense the gossiping women comment but considering both men were a good foot and a half taller than she, she chose to be wise silently. "P'Mai, Frukra..." She looked expected at the younger man as if to confirm his name, when he nodded, she smiled thanks in return. "Frukra said that Klaang was going to...to..."

"Take you as his mate," P'Mai finished for her when he finally noticed that her face was as bright red as bloodwine. "Yes, I shall convince him that it would be wise."

"Excuse me?" Her eyes bulged on her face. "Convince him it would be wise? Have you gone completely..." In her agitated state, she lost her gasp on the Klingon language. Shaking her head quickly, she reverted to English for a moment. "Mad?"

Both warriors looked at her funny.

"I'm not mating with anyone!" She shook her head as if to emphasize her point. "Not even going anywhere near him without a good ten foot pole. No way, no how!"

"You are upset?" Frukra asked as if unsure of the reaction they were witnessing.

"Upset?" She shouted, her fear gone with the wind now that her angry has been prodded. "You think that just because you say so that it's going to happen? Hello? What century are you people living on here? I'm not going to marry, much less mate, with anyone in this universe or the next. I still have my career to think about and life to get back to. And if you think for a second that I'm going to give up my career for the 'honor' of mating with some...some pain in the butt stubborn Klingon, you're out of your collective minds!"

It was a good thing that Hoshi had switched into six different languages, including Vulcan, Japanese and Russian, during her torrid speech or she may have gotten her head bashed in for irritating the heck out of the two Klingon warrior who exchanged expression of exasperation and disbelief.

"Problem?" Klaang asked for his position propped against the open doorway.

Hoshi glared at him with extreme irritation. "You promised to take me back to my ship once I've completed the translation."

"That is correct." Klaang stated, eyeing his comrades with a great deal of sharpness.

"You promise?" She asked, ignoring the two in the room. "You swear on your honor that I'm going to get to go home without a scratch."

From the expression on Klaang's face, he was not too thrilled with her phrasing of words, calling his honor into question. But apparently her cooperation was important enough for him to give a reluctant grunt of acceptance. "Yes."

"Good," she sighed and smiled suddenly. "Cause I think I've got it."


	10. Chapter 10

### Klingon Warbird Kollarg

Hoshi sat back as the six warriors crowded around the exact translation she had produced only two hours before. She was almost one hundred perfect sure it was perfect. With a little historical content threw in; she got it almost at once. Now all she had to do was convince several very suspicious and angry Klingons that she's done her job and would be better off on her own ship.

"As you can see," she pointed to the a sentence several paragraphs down on the bag raddled with words, "They are looking at a thermal nuclear device, something similar to the twentieth century earth's atom bomb. Hard to detect in this day and age, unless one thinks about using a heat detector, but who uses that anymore."

"And it will be placed in the Chalice?" M'Pai asked, his eyes dark with suppressed angry and narrowed in concentration.

"Once the Chalice is lit up, the heat from the fire will slowly eat through the nickel iron casing to the detonator. Once those blow, the chain reaction would cause the..."

"It will take all the capital with it." Klaang muttered loudly enough for everyone in the room to hear. "It is just slow enough acting to allow the traitorous swain to get away clean."

The young Starfleet ensign nodded her head and sat back. "That's the idea."

"This device," an older warrior with long gray hair that looked more rat's nest than a cat's hairball. "It is difficult to get?"

With s shrug, she pushed the date pad toward him "I don't know anything about these people or their technology but that's what they'll probably need to create something like that. But since we know that it the detonator will be transferred to them, tracking primitive components seems like a pointless exercise."

The older man nodded his shaggy head. "Where are they to pick up the device?"

Hoshi reached for the data pad on the table and pushed it toward the older warrior that asked the question, no longer watching her with such contempt. "On Station Pl'Annge." She looked expectedly at the others. "Anyone know where that is?"

Klaang frowned, his eyes studying the bomb. "It is on Cuztar."

The sigh escaped before she had time to reconsider it. Fortunately the others were not paying much attention to her, to intent on their mission. "And Cuztar is where?"

"Seven light-years from here. We've been tracking a Kocklond ship for sometime. Now we know why they are in headed for the Trisellar Nebula." Klaang appeared to be speaking more to himself than the others. "We must stop them."

The others nodded in agreement as the meeting broke up as quickly and loudly, with scraping chairs and grunts of dismissal.

Hoshi sat there slightly befuddled as to what has happened. When Klaang got up to head for the bridge, she scrambled to her feet and ran after him. Grabbing his arm, she had to put all her weight into it to get his attention. "Wait a second."

Klaangs eyes shifted to the two tiny hands clasped tightly to his metal incased arm before following it up to the arm then shoulder then face to the woman they belong to.

She let go quickly when she was sure she had his attention. "I would appreciate it a little more explanation on the matter if it's not too much trouble."

"What would you like to know?" Klaang asked, softly. It would not do for his warriors to see him indulge the woman this way.

"First of all, what are you going to do once you've got your hands on these guys?"

The warrior gave her a look that asked if she had completely lost her mind.

All the color left Hoshi's face as she realized his intentions through the intensity of his eyes. "Never mind, I don't want my suspicions confirmed." Shaking her head, she wondered how a culture as richly wonderfully as the Klingons, civilized in their idea of rights and honor, could be so brutally savage like at the same time. "Second question, how is this going to effect you taking me home?"

The Klingon frowned. "It will have to wait."

She nodded her head. She already knew that was going to be the answer to her question. "You have to save your empire first."

He nodded. "I will take you home after." He drew a dagger and crossed his palm with it, letting the scarlet blood drip to the ground. "You have my blood oath upon it."

Hoshi stared horrified at the blood. "Are you crazy?" She rushed to up her hand over the cut, trying to seep the blood with a little old fashion pressure to the wound. "You didn't have to do that! I would have believed you if you'd just say so." She shook her head and tugged ineffectively at the small scarf around her neck lately to keep the small of unwashed bodies away.

Klaang watched her with deep eyes that seem to see more. "You would make a good warrior one day."

With a laugh, Hoshi shook her head and bring the wound the best she could and wondered if Klingons have a med.-bay. "Thank you." It was as close to a compliment, not to mention thank-you, as she was ever to get from these people.

"If you eat more."

"Are we back on that again?"

### Enterpriseâ€”Bridge

"Sir," Mayweather frowned as he readjusted the ship. "I'm picking up another warp trail on the map."

"Where?" Archer got up to stand beside the young pilot.

"Right here, sir." Mayweather pointed to the digital star chart by his side. The grid was efficient enough for a quick look when the pilot needs it.

"Reed," Archer looked over at the tactician.

"Pulling it up on the view screen now, sir." Malcolm said easily as his fingers danced across the control panels in front of him. His face was set in a rather grime expression that did not bode well.

The rest of the bridge crew looked up to see the star charts displayed in all their glory. Following that was another chart with the four Klingon ships' routes mapped out neatly in blue and another three tracking from off right pulling up behind the Klingons. Lt. Reed had thoughtfully put the new comer to this little parade in red. They were all headed in the same direction. "Talk to me people, tell me something I don't already know."

"Sir," Reed's eyes were on the screen as his hands became still over the edge of his controls. "If I'm not mistaken, from the angle and speed that the second set is moving, I'd say they are not in any hurry to announce their presence to our kidnapping friends."

"Agreed," Archer pushed way from Mayweather's console and turned to Reed. "You think they mean to ambush the Klingons?"

"Hard to say sir," Reed answered honestly but nodded his head. "Three on four are not great odds but history has seen worse."

Archer nodded his head in grave concern. "And we have yet to determine which ship Hoshi is currently residing in." He sighed; this was becoming more and more complicated by the day. "Archer to Tucker."

"Tucker here sir," Trip's voice coming through loud and clear. "What can I do for ya?"

"Trip, you getting all this down in engineering?"

"Every last darn star and particle."

"I need a way to expose these new guys without giving ourselves up too quickly. Think you can do that?"

"Hum..."

"Sir?" Reed peeped up from this station. "Perhaps we can..."

"Mr. Reed," the corners of Archer's lips curved up at the deviously delighted look in Reed's eyes. "Why don't you go down to engineering and talk with Trip. I'm sure between you two, you can come up with something that will most likely impress me and tick off Starfleet."

Mayweather choked on his laughter while Reed gave a mock salute and left the bridge. It wasn't until the tactical officer had left did their until-now silent science officer speak up. "Was that wise, Captain? I've heard of Commander Tucker's many...ingenious pranks around the ship. With Lt. Reed still upset over Ensign Sato's disappearance, perhaps allowing them so much..."

"That's precisely why, T'Pol." Archer grinned suddenly at her. "There is no better motivation and inspiration than a little anger."


	11. Chapter 11

### Klingon Warbird Kollarg

"Is it wise to keep the woman onboard?"

"We have not the luxury of leaving her anywhere."

"Perhaps..."

"No. We will not do that. I gave my word."

The conversation did not end there and Hoshi would have screamed in frustration if she could. Who would have thought that anyone would be in the mass hall after hours? The massive amount of snoring that she heard as she went through several corridors had assured her that she would not be in much danger of running into anyone while she got a little snack. She must be getting more accustom to this rough environment for her appetite was coming back by leaps and bounds.

Klaang and Neto, one of the older warriors, caught her completely by surprised as she crouched behind the large counter, under which was where she found bread and some strange crackers. It was too late for her to make her presence known to them when they started to talk.

"She is a 'humon.' You need not keep your word to a..."

"My word is my honor. I would not dishonor myself or my house to convenience this ship."

"Do not allow your sense of honor to endanger this ship and crew."

"You would have me break honor and have my men question my word when I give it."

There was a grunt. "You are stubborn."

"As all Klingons are."

Hoshi was more than a little startled by this. If she didn't know better, she could have sworn that was a joke.

"She will need to be kept in the brig when we..."

"No."

"Klaang..."

"I said no. She has proven her worthiness, we will not treat prisoner."

"Klaang..."

"Do not nag like an old woman."

"Your mother would make much offense to that."

The young ensign clapped her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing out loud. Good grief, these guys were joking like Reed and Trip did sometimes.

"The woman will stay in her quarters and out of harm's way. It will take us no more than a few hours to crush the Kocklonds. Once that is done, we will find her people and return her to them." Klaang grunted.

There a brief moment of silence, in which Hoshi prayed that they would go away and allow her to search the pantry in peace. But not such luck was in stored for her. For some bizarre reason, the Klingons have a bad habit of being unlucky for her.

"You can save much trouble and just keep the woman."

"And do what with her?"

"You are a warrior, need you ask that question?" There was a guttural laugh that turned Hoshi's belly upside down and inside out. Even if they weren't looking at her, she could still feel her face become infused in heat.

"She is weak."

"She is stronger than she appears," that got a real surprise from Hoshi. It was an assumption on her part that other than Klaang and maybe M'Pai, the others thought of her as weak and frail. Now to Neto say it...well, it certainly does alter her opinion of these people...but only very little.

Klaang made a non-comment sound then said, "Lucudur and Frukra have both asked for her. There is to be a challenge after we have rid ourselves of the Kocklonds."

Hoshi frowned, not at all sure what that meant.

Neto laughed with great amusement. "So the boys have taken to her. Have you told our guest that."

"I doubt she would welcome the idea."

"They are both young, make great warriors one day."

"Perhaps," there was sound of goblets being dripped I into wine barrels, reminding Hoshi that she was still hungry. "But she is humon."

"You think that high council will not approve."

"I do not think our guest would approve."

"Have you told her?"

"No, and I will not." The door to the mass hall hissed opened. "She will leave soon, she needs not know."

Then the door shut and there was silence again. Hoshi stayed behind the counter for a while longer until she was sure that they were really gone before crawling out and heaving a sigh of relief. "What the heck was that all about?"

### Enterpriseâ€”Engineering

"It's like hitting them with a baseball," Trip explained happily. The four hours of work got all his senses humming like a well-oiled machine. "They won't even see it until it hits them in their pretty little behinds."

"Literally," Reed added, forcing his face to stay completely professional and neutral in the face of his extreme pleasure. "We just need a go-ahead from you, Captain."

"And please say yes," Commander Tucker placed his hands together in an eager plead.

"Okay, let me get this straight." Archer paced around the conference table. "The 'ball' is a alloy of iron, nickel, steel and sulfur. And it's going to be the size of a volleyball aimed at their rear flank ship toward the exhaust engines."

"Right," Reed pointed to the chart on the table. "The beauty of it is that our little ball isn't something that most ships would be looking for in the ways of a weapons."

"We're going to hurl that sucker and watch it light up that last ship like fireworks on the 4th of July." Tucker grinned.

Archer nodded. "The Sulfur will be ignited once it hits the exhaust."

Reed nodded. "Yes sir."

"And if they were to shoot at it, they'd still give themselves away." Archer reasoned slowly, allowing his mind to see all the angles. "And if they were to move the ship?"

The chief engineer shook his head. "No way they can move all three that quickly."

Archer nodded his head again, his mind wrapped itself slowly and eagerly around the idea, just imagining the memos he was going to get from Starfleet over this little stunt. "T'Pol?"

The Vulcan science officer looked at the three eager faces and knew that she was going to be over-ruled no matter how she put it. "May I remind you, Captain that that there are other options to..."

"But will this one work?"

Those exotically cool eyes met the captain's steadily. "Yes." She pronounced slowly, drawing out the word.

Archer's brow raised for a moment. "I hear a but."

T'Pol tilted her head. "But only if someone can aim it correctly."

The captain's lips curled into a grin. "Mr. Reed..."

"It would be my supreme pleasure, sir."


	12. Chapter 12

### Enterpriseâ€”Bridge

"Mr. Reed," Archer called as he rounded his seat with the first light-hearted step he's taken since his communications officer disappeared unexpectedly. "Tell me you and Trip have got all your little ducks lined up in a row. I'm looking forward to whatever you can give me right now."

"As soon as Commander Tucker loads the 'missile' into the torpedo bay, we're good to go, Captain." Reed nodded his head and exchanged quick glances with Mayweather. The young pilot looked ready to bounce out of his seat with excitement.

"Good, then we should..."

"Launch bay to Bridge." Trip's heavily accented voice called through the intercom.

"Bridge here." Archer raised in eye brow and looked at the less than amused Vulcan at her post. "Talk to me, Trip."

"We're ready down here, sir." The happiness in Trip's voice was more than a sign that they were eager to get this display on the road.

The Captain nodded his head and looked toward armory officer. "Then we're ready to rock and roll, people. Malcolm, if you please..."

The usually serious-faced officer cracked a smile and turned to his panel of dials and knobs. "'Missile' away."

All those that had a screen before them watched as the tiny object traveled at an incredible speed toward its target. Everyone held their breath, not sure if they wanted the plan to work or fail. On the one hand, if it failed, the chances of them engaged in combat would be greatly decreased but they would still be missing a highly qualified linguist. On the other hand, if it worked, they could be looking at...That option never manifested itself in any shape or form.

The explosion turned out to be not quite as spectacular as they had hoped for but more than enough to give off a flare that any dark-aged vessel would be able to pick up on long range sensors. Crossing fingers and toes, the crew waited with abated breath.

"Captain," T'Pol every cool even voice cut through the tension. "The Klingons are turning about."

### Klingon Warbird Kollarg

Hoshi's sensitive senses felt it when the ship dropped out of impulse and turned about. Her heart raced for a moment, just for a brief second, she thought Klaang had changed his mind and was going to drop her off somewhere while he went to fight his battle. But no, she knew that was not possible, the Klingons wouldn't care enough to about her to do that. Their empire was at stake here, and god only knows she understood that.

The doors to her quarter slide open with a hiss and Frukra stepped in with an arm full of armor. "The captain would have you changed into clothes that will protect you in an attack."

"What?" Hoshi was sure her ears were paying tricks with her. He did no just say...

"An attack, we engage in battle now!" The firry look in Fruka's eyes reminded Hoshi that the Klingons were a warrior race, no matter their sophisticated system of economy, culture, or language.

Taking the heavy armor from the young warrior, she almost collapsed under the enormous weight of it all. "Holy cow, I hope you don't expect me to wear all this."

"It will protect you from..."

"I won't be able to walk much less defend myself in this." Hoshi made a face and dropped the whole pile on the ground. "No thanks, I think I'll take my chances with the leather and metal."

The look in the man's face did not bode well for her. But if there is one thing Hoshi has learned in her little 'visit' with the Klingons, it is they may right and wrestle with one another, but when it comes to her they were not so rough. But then again, there sheer size usually gets her to do what they want.

"You will wear the armor."

She frowned. "I will not!" She crossed her hand over her chest and stared up at her, amazed at her own audacity. "Besides, what you do care? If I die in this, it would save you all a trip in taking me back to my ship."

Frukra frowned darkly at her and opened his mouth to say something, fortunately for Hoshi, Klaang choice that moment to enter the room. The formidable captain of the ship frowned at the pile on the ground. "You will wear the armor to protect yourself."

The young ensign often felt like she was talking to herself when it came to communicating with these people. "Those things must weigh fifty or sixty pounds at the least. I won't be able to move if I have that on." She sighed and sat down on the uncomfortable hard-back chair. "Thank you for thinking about me though. I know that you are probably very busy with..."

"You will come to the bridge after you have put the armor on." Klaang announced without so much as looking at her. Picking up the armload of metal and leather, he thrust them in her lap again. "You will tell the Kocklonds why they are dying this day."

There was a moment there that she thought for a mili-second that he might have been joking with her. But that moment came and passed without much effect. "Let ma get this straight, you basically want me to declare war with these...these...Kocklonds. You want ME to declare war for you."

"You speak the language well."

"I don't want to."

"You will."

"No I won't."

"Yes you will." Klaang said forcefully and turned to the younger warrior. "She will change and come up to the bridge."

"Am I even in the room any more?" Hoshi said through tightly clinched teeth. Her anger did not have much to back it up but she did possess a temper. "Didn't I just say that..."

Klaang turned to pin her with his dark eyes. "Your Captain has come for you."

That shut Hoshi up nicely.

"Once we are finished, you will be returned to your ship."

She digested this slowly. Captain Archer and the Enterprise crew had come for her. Her, a little lowly ensign. How...sweet! Glancing down at the armor. "I'm going to need help getting to your bridge."

Frukra grunted something non-commenting and nodded his head. "I will take you."

She nodded and unzip the front of her jumper. As she pealed back the jacket, she glanced up to see that both men were watching her. "Do you mind?"

### Enterpriseâ€”Bridge

"Captain," T'Pol turned from her observation viewer. "The Klingon ships have altered course and moved themselves into battle formation."

"Look like your signal flare worked, Mr. Reed, Trip," Archer nodded his head. "Now let's see if we..."

"Sir," Reed's eyes narrowed. "Third ship on tail-gaters have turned toward us. I think they've detected us."

"You think?" Mayweather asked as he pulled the ship to the full stop. "Captain, maybe should..."

"Shields up," Archer ordered, his voice going from soft teasing to all seriously in two point two seconds. "Weapons on stand by. Don't shoot until you can see the whites in their eyes."

"Now is hardly the time to quote American history," Trip frowned and adjusted the energy output on the shields. Frowning, he got up. "I'll be down in engineering keep us flying if you need me."

"Go ahead," Archer sighed and leaned back into his seat. "Let's see how this is going to pay out cause right now we appear to be in somewhat of a ..."

"Captain," Ensign Williams called quietly. "We're getting a wide-band transmission."

"From where?" Archer moved to get out of his chair.

"The Klingons, sir."


	13. Chapter 13

### Enterpriseâ€”Bridge

"Somebody get me a translation of everything Hoshi just said!" Archer growled in frustration. The first sign they've had that their communications officer is alive and well and she's spouting gibberish to them.

"Sir, it's not a language in the archives." Ensign William said in a near panic. The whites of his eyes were showing, revealing more of his fear than anything else could. "I cannot find anything that even comes close."

"Then you better hope she didn't give the order to blow everyone up," Archer said sarcastically and turned to T'Pol. "Can you give me anything?"

The ever-calm science officer merely nodded. "I believe Ensign Sato was speaking Kocklond."

"What the hell is that?" Mayweather muttered just a little too loudly.

"That would be...the 'space pirates.'" T'Pol explained with an arched brow. "It would appear the semi-truce the Klingons and the Kocklonds have had for some time now is at an end."

"You think?" Archer asked unnecessarily. "Tell me anything else you may have slated as classified before now. We need everything there is to know about these..."

"Captain," Reed's eyes were on the instruments before him. "I don't think now is the time for a quick briefing on our little 'friends' out there."

"Why?" Annoyed beyond belief.

"I'm showing energy spikes all over the place. They're definitely charging weapons, sir." Reed moved around his station, allowing another officer to take over tactical. "I think I'd be more effective down in armory, sir."

"Go!" Archer said quietly as he took his seat. Heaving a sigh, he sat down in the command chair again and prayed that his ship and crew made it out of this in one piece.

### Klingon Warbird Kollarg

"Ahhh!" Lucudur grabbed her arm and kept her upright before Hoshi had a chance to disgrace herself by falling on her ass. Grabbing his hand, she took a deep breath before thanking him.

The young warrior did nothing more than shove her against the wall by his station before turning back to monitor the weapon's output. From Hoshi's vantage, she could see that this was not the kind of battle she ever wanted to be caught in. While the Klingons had the speed and sleek Bird of Prey, the other side had heavily armed vassals that were doing some real damage to the small ships.

"Shields!" Klaang roared above the hum of the engines.

"Eight-six percent and holding." Fruka called out.

"We should outflank them." M'Pai advised quietly from the side.

Klaang nodded his head in agreement before punching a panel that allowed for communications with the other ships alone.

Hoshi lost track of the conversation as the ship was rocked by another explosion and she had to hang on to the side of the wall for support while sparks exploded around her, showering the control room for a brief moment with light. The bridge of the Klingon ship was every bit as cramp and dark as the rest of the ship. She got the feeling the only thing bright to these people can in the form of battle-axes dripping blood of the enemy.

The sudden screeching sound from around her alerted Hoshi to the fact that that hit was stronger than the others. Warriors that could possibly dubbed as engineer rushed around the room, putting out fire and re-routing power to controls. Through the various grunts and shouts, Hoshi understood that their main deflector shield had sustained damage.

Klaang gave an order at a near roar and the rest of the bridge crew joined in. The sound emanated from the throats of these massive giants can only be described as a war cry. It took a moment for Hoshi to decipher the meaning behind the howl and another minute for her to shake herself out of the stunned stupor.

### Enterpriseâ€”Bridge

Travis Mayweather rolled out of his seat as the entire ship took a sudden dive to the right. Scrambling back into the control, he prayed that no one else saw that the pilot had been toss from his position.

"Ensign Mayweather!" Archer's voice carried over the hissing of the fire extinguishers. "Tell me that's not going to happen again!"

"Sorry, sir," Travis said as he pulled the ship upright in time to avoid another torpedo from the enemy. "I didn't even see it..."

"Mr. Jankins," the captain's head twisted around to pin the young tactical officer. "Keep our pilot on alert of possible bogies."

"Yes, sir." The poor officer looked like the admiral himself had just reprimanded him.

Punching a button on the panel by his chair, he growled, "Mr. Reed, we're getting the stuffing knocked out of us up here. Where are the weapons?"

"Sir, we are..." The launching of a torpedo from their torpedo bay cut off Reed's voice. "Torpedo away sir."

Archer rolled his eyes but smiled as the missile made contract with the ship chasing them. "Thanks for informing me after the fact."

"Any time." Reed's voice was cut off once again but this time by a rather urgent Commander Tucker.

"Hey, what's going on up there?" Trip called rather indignantly. "I've got my people running around like mad down here."

"We're just getting rid of some unwanted company, Trip. Hang on tight and get your people to the emergency stuff. We're still not out of the woods yet." Archer answered. "Mr. Reed, please make sure that our guest find the backdoor wide open to them."

"Will do, Captain. Just let me..."

"Torpedo in route!" Mr. Jankins called out with wide eyes.

"Mayweather!" Archer instructed.

"Not going to make it in time, sir." Travis answered even as he maneuver the ship away from the incoming missile, giving the target the least amount of surface to hit.

Archer tapped the ship-wide intercom. "All hands, brace for impact!"


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written before last night's episode, "Sleeping Dogs," so I didn't know that the Klingons don't have any life pods. So please cut me some slack!

### Klingon Warbird Kollarg

Note: This was written before last night's episode, "Sleeping Dogs," so I didn't know that the Klingons don't have any life pods. So please cut me some slack!

"Ramming speed?!?" Hoshi shouted at the top of her lungs over the roar of the engines and the hissing of the live wires hanging everywhere. "Are you people nuts!"

Klaang turned to look at the young ensign with deep eyes that seem to be considering all the options in the world, except the one that would reverse their present course. He pulled M'Pai over to him and said something too softly for Hoshi to hear as she made her way over to the Captain.

"You cannot possibly mean to do something so...so..." She didn't know the word for 'suicidal' in Klingon, so she opinioned for something equally applicable. "Something so stupid!"

M'Pai grinned at her. "It is a good day to die."

Hoshi stared at him opened mouthed. "It is not a good day to die!" She turned to look at the captain of the ship. "You promised to return me to my ship. How can you do that if you are dead?"

Klaang nodded his head and motioned to M'Pai who merely nodded his head and grabbed Hoshi by the arm. "We return you to your ship now."

"What?!?" She turned her head and got one last look at Klaang as he watched them go. "What are you people talking about?!?"

### Enterpriseâ€”Bridge

The blinding light had everyone on the bridge, and everyone throughout the ship for that matters, shielding their eyes from the intense blaze. It was so bright that the pain it caused for anyone unfortunate enough to be looking out a space portal to suffer some retina damage that Dr. Phlox would be treating for the next week to come.

"Missile intercepted, sir," Reed called out through the intercom, one of the few people that had been safely shielded away from the light. "One of the Klingon's Bird of Prey fired an intercept beam."

"Really?" Archer asked, surprised as hell. From where he was sitting, the Klingons, though holding their own, certainly didn't look to be any position, not to mention inclination, to help them out. "Anyone want to speculate why they would..."

"Incoming message," Ensign William looked up clearly startled. "Klingon lead ship, sir."

"Put it through."

The massive head of wild hair and sharp teeth appeared on the screen only long enough to growl out a few incomprehensible words to...no, at Archer before abruptly cutting off.

Turning to Ensign William, who was scrambling through the computer translating the message, Archer did some growling of his own. "What the hell was that?"

Ensign William took an extra moment to double-check himself. "He said, 'Pick up your woman.' Whatever that means."

"Captain," T'Pol's cool voice carried smoothly through the near panic of the other, younger crewmen. "The Klingon lead ship has release a life pod."

"They've what?" It took a moment for Jonathan to understanding what the Vulcan was saying. "Scan for..."

"It is humanoid. Earth human to be exact." She answered smoothly and with a slight tilt of her head.

Archer's eyes lit up like a kid's eyes at Christmas. With a quick twist of his lips, he touched the intercom. "Trip, I need you to..."

"Way ahead of you, sir." Trip called out through the system even as he raced toward the shuttle bay. "We can try the grappling. It's safer than putting another ship out there."

"Agreed," Archer said nodded his head. "Get Mr. Reed to assist you with that."

"Shouldn't he be at the armory in case..." Trip suggested.

"The Klingons appear to be giving the life pod and ourselves plenty of cover." T'Pol answered quietly.

Reed's voice came through clearly. "Give me two minutes."

"With the kind of fire being used out there, Hoshi may not have two minutes." Archer called out. "Mayweather, can you get us any closer?"

"Yes, sir," Mayweather answered as he pushed the ship closer to the life pod that was moving steadily toward the Enterprise.

The rest of the crew held their collective breath at the sound of the grappling hooks shot from their bays, reaching desperately for the small pod. The first one miss by a mere three feet, but the second one caught. Strong magnetic forces clasped together and everyone sighed as the small object was pulled into the safety of the shuttle bay.

Archer waited until the shuttle bay door closed before giving his next order. "Trip, get her to Dr. Phlox." He smiled as he turned toward his pilot, "Ensign, I think maybe we should be leaving this little domestic dispute. Get us out of here at warp..."

"Captain!" Hoshi voice came through the intercom, a little shaky but definitely strong.

"Ensign Sato," Archer grinned, relaxing for the first time in a while. "It good to hear your..."

"We have to help them," Hoshi said urgently as commander Tucker helped her out of the life pod, which the Klingons had padded for her before literally stuffing her into it. "Klaang plans on ramming his ship into the Kocklond's ship." She winced as she forced her cramped up legs to move, with a concerned Reed and Trip following behind, both ready to catch her if she should fall.

"Hoshi, what are you saying?" Archer asked quietly, holding up a hand to stop Mayweather who had been inputting his orders, ready to high tailed it out of there.

"We have to help the Klingons." Hoshi said, having to shop when the heavy Klingon armor she was still wearing tripped her up. "Help me get this off," she pleaded.

Trip and Reed pulled the plating from the arm and shoulder, neither one brave enough to reach for the leg and chest guard.

"Hoshi, they abducted you and..."

"I know but they had their reasons." She was slightly annoyed with the fact that she was standing here having to defend the very people that caused her so many headaches not too long ago.

Reed was getting peeved over the fact that Hoshi was sticking up for those...those..."What possible reason could they have for..."

"Captain, the Kocklonds were trying to assassinate the Klingon High Council. Klaang and his crew were simply trying to prevent the massive destruction of their empire." Hoshi pleaded with Reed and Tucker with her tired eyes. "Please, I truly believe that the Klingons have been wronged in this."

Tucker groaned while Reed merely sighed. "Captain," the armory officer said rather reluctantly. "I think you might want to listen to her."

Hoshi offered a smiled of gratitude. "Thank you."

Reed shook his head and helped her toward the bridge once more. "Don't thank me, just don't make me regret sticking up for you."

"Ah can't believe we're doing this," Trip muttered darkly as he jogged along side them.

Archer turned in his chair the three officers came through the door. He raised a brow at Hoshi's new fashion statement but otherwise welcomed her back with a gesture toward her station, which was quickly vacated by a grateful Ensign William. "Mr. Reed, why don't you see about armory and Trip, get those shields running at full again. People, we're going in."


	15. Chapter 15

### Enterpriseâ€”Captain's Quarters

"Captain's Log," Archer rubbed his forehead and sighed from deep within. "After six hours of some pretty fancy maneuvering by Ensign Mayweather and a few interesting tactics by Mr. Reed, Enterprise is back to semi-normal state. Commander Tucker and his people are going to have some rather extensive repairs on their hands but I think the commander is more than up to the job.

"Ensign Sato spent much of those six hours at her post, translating the heated words being transmitted across ships, some Klingon, some Kocklond. It was a real pleasure to watch that girl at work. This little adventure of hers seems to have rid her of some of that squeamishness she possessed when she first came on the ship. The doctor is running some thorough tests on her to make sure she didn't pick up anything none too clean on the Klingon ship. And though she lost a little weight, Hoshi appears to be in perfectly fine condition.

"Reed and Tucker weren't too happy when the Klingons insisted on coming onboard to see Ensign Sato before they make their return trip to Kronos. Reed wanted to shoot them at first sight and Tucker...well, our chief engineer just wanted to push them out of the first open hatch. It would appear that our communications officer has got herself some pretty big admirers.

"As for the Kocklonds, they are not too happy with us right now, which is why that I have made the executive decision not to stick around this area for too long. Hoshi having decoded their language wouldn't be sitting too happy with them and after the hair-raising couple of days we've had with her missing, I think I'll try to keep her out of harms way.

"Dr. Phlox has given her a clean bill of health though has noted that she has lost some weight in her time away. He has also recommended some medical leave for recovery. What she is to be recovering from is anyone's guess at the moment. Life on the Enterprise is slowly getting back to normal, or as normal as it gets around here.

T'Pol has recommended that we stop by the third planet from the sun in this solar system, stating the it has a nice trading post we can visit. This is the first time our Vulcan science officer has suggested anything even remotely close to being an actual exploration. Too bad Mr. Reed and Communder Tucker both vetoed her idea. I think those two are going to need a little more time than Ensign Sato to 'recover.' So we are heading off to another sector for a little more exploring. Captain Jonathan Archer of the Starship Enterprise, logging off."

### Enterpriseâ€”Mass Hall

"I still say we should have never allowed them on board." Reed stabbed the meatball on his plate with more force than was necessary. "Lord know what kind of..."

"Howdy!" Mayweather swung the chair around and straddled it with his face lit up like a Christmas tree.

Trip, who had been sharing his dinner with Reed discussing the benefits of eliminating the Klingons, eyed the young pilot with amusement. "Who lit up your day?"

"Hoshi," Travis answered a grin big enough to split his face. "I got the latest ship wide gossip." He looked at Reed for a moment. "Hey Malcolm, why weren't you with the security detail that escorted the Klingons?"

Reed muttered something darkly to himself before answering. "The Captain and I agreed that it would not be a good idea." He made a face. "And what about the ensign?"

Were it possible, Travis was positively glowing with excitement. "Culter told me that a fight broke out among the Klingons as they were leaving the ship. Their captain had to bang together a couple of heads to get anywhere. Our security team didn't know what to do."

Trip frowned. "What happened?"

Leaning in close, he whispered conspiratorially. "Apparently one of the Klingons asked Hoshi to return with them."

"WHAT?" Malcolm and Trip yelled at the same time.

"Ah, but that's not the best part," Travis took a healthy bit of his sandwich. "Another one challenged the first guy for the right to ask. Said something about protocol on some ritual. Battle to the death or something like that." The amusement on the ensign's face was testimony to there being more than one witness to the event. The various tales have been making their way around the ship, except to the two men who appeared not to want to be bothered with anything more than their dinners.

Both senior officers looked horrified. Tucker scratched his chin. "You have to battle to the death for the right to get an officer on the ship?"

Travis choked on his orange juice. Laughing and coughing didn't mixed too well and it took him a while to catch his breath enough to speak again. It wasn't like the chief engineer to be so obtuse. "Trip, I don't think either one of them wanted her for that miraculous ear for language of hers."

The southern boy frowned, his brows wrinkled in confusion. "Then what in tar nations are you..."

"Commander Tucker," Malcolm interrupted quietly, his face reflecting his obvious displeasure at hearing this little bit of ship wide gossip. "You are a man for bloody sakes. What is the most basic reason a man wants a woman?"

Trip's eyes narrowed for a moment in concentration than widen in shock. "You mean..."

Travis and Malcolm nodded their heads simultaneously.

Trip frowned again. "Oh."

The three sat in silence as thoughts fluttered through their mind, images that were best left not imagined.

"Hi," Hoshi dropped her tray down and invited herself to join their table. "Boy am I glad to be eating regular food again." She forked up the pasta and glanced around. "What's going on?"

The three stared at her until while she obliviously went on eating.

"Hoshi?" Trip, ever curioius to a fault, ventured.

"Yeah?" She looked up at them innocently.

It was hard for any one of them to imagine the sweet young thing being in the arms of ...Well, that was an image that was definitely not to be thought of.

Malcolm cleared his throat. "Ensign, when you were on the Klingon ship. Did any of them ever...Did they try to..." He couldn't bring himself to say it. He just couldn't.

"Try to what?" Hoshi asked, her face distorted in confusion. "What are you guys babbling about?"

Travis thought of doing this tactfully. "Did the Klingons ever made advances?"

Her dark eyes went cloudy with confusion. "Advances? What are you talking about?"

The three traded glances. Trip decided to try again. "Well, we heard about a ritual of rights to..." He was at a lost for words. It was very unlike him to not be outright straight with a person. But this was little Hoshi he was talking to.

The confusion cleared up almost immediately. She made a noise of disgust. "Oh that. I can't believe that...Of all the..." She sighed and abandoned her dinner. After a moment, she grabbed her tray and got up. "Yes, one of them asked me to be his mate."

"His mate?" The three stared at her with wide disbelieving eyes.

"Yeah," she nodded and turned to leave. "And you should see what their mating rituals are like."

"Mating rituals?"

"Yeah," she walked away with a grin on her face as she processed the look of shock on their faces. "Ever wonder why Klingons are so big?"

Three faces stared at her retreating back until she slipped out the door. Then there was silence as all the bad things they had not wanted to think about, imagine or even consider came to mind.

Travis was the first to say anything. "You don't think she actually..."

"Hoshi?" Malcolm asked in disbelief. "It takes two Hoshis to make one Klingon. How could they ever..."

"No way," Trip shook his head. "I refused to believe..."

"Then how does she know about the Klingon mating rituals are like?" Travis asked. He flinched when the two senior officers swung their head and stared at him.

"Hoshi?" Trip muttered under his breath. "No way."


End file.
